


We move forward

by somebocly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Depression, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Insecure Peter Parker, Irondad, Kinda, Night Terrors, Peter meeting Morgan, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Trauma, and harley, basically just Peter dealing with Tony's death, implied - Freeform, spiderson, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 08:07:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18847015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebocly/pseuds/somebocly
Summary: However Happy stepped in before Peter could even get a word out. ‘'Look kid...’’, his eyes trailed to the photo grasped in Peter’s hands and he sighed. ‘'This doesn’t change anything. If you need something, I’m always here. No matter what, I’ll answer my phone. Peter Parker related things and Spider-Man related things, I’m-’’‘'I’m not Spider-Man’’, Peter mumbled, looking down at his feet. ‘’Or at least not right now.’’-Peter suffering from the aftermaths of Endgame and coming to terms with Tony's death.





	We move forward

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for anxiety, depression and PTSD.  
> It sounds worse than it is, but basically, Peter's dealing with a lot after Endgame. 
> 
> Starts after the battle in Endgame and ends with the Far From Home trailer.

 

A week has passed and Peter was actually doing alright.

Mostly.

Some nights he was barely holding on. 

Grief is something Peter was very familiar with since the early years of his childhood. Having lost his parents when he was six and his uncle when he was 14. But, it’s still pain- unbelievable, horrible and aching pain- something no one can get used to no matter how many people close to one die. 

And despite everything it wasn’t fair. 

Mr. Stark saved everyone. And paid the ultimate price. They won, Peter had to remind himself daily, they damn won the battle against Thanos. After the snap and after having died, the Avengers still won. So why didn’t it feel like victory at all?

People were mourning and Peter felt like falling apart. 

Without aunt May he wouldn’t have known how to deal with the aftermath, . Their reunion was, as expected, full of tears.

‘'Oh my god Peter, I thought I’d never see you again. I just-’’, she sobbed, pressing her face against her nephews hair. Peter, crying himself, tightened his arms around her and squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on her calming smell of roses and cinnamon. There, in his aunts arms, everything came crumbling down on him. His body and heart still ached from the battle that just took place merely two hours ago. 

The boy squeezed his aunt tighter, his cries having turned into sobs. Ugly, wailing sounds left his throat and he was sure snot was pooling out of his nose. Tears soaked through the fabric of his aunt’s T-shirt. Everything was too much, the whole situation was too much for him. After all he was just a 16 year old kid, a kid who should've just stayed on the school bus.

May, sensing something bad must have happened, rubbed her nephew’s back slowly. Her hand trailed into his hair, combing through the mess and trying to calm the spluttering child in her arms. ‘’Peter listen..’’, she looked at him, her own tears escaping her eyes. 

‘'You’re alive and I love you so much.’’.

Another sob left Peter’s mouth.

 _I’m alive but he isn’t._  

Slowly, very slowly, life returned to normal.

School started only one week later and even though Peter still didn’t feel ready he was also excited to see his friends again. Who wouldn’t be after five years?

Of course the snap made everything complicated in its own way. The few of his classmates who survived weren’t even at school anymore and already in college, which was, admittedly, pretty weird if you asked Peter. Though most of his friends, or rather the few people he would consider friends, turned out to not have aged five years.

As Peter walked through the doors of Midtown High for the first time he felt a wave of melancholy and happiness at the same time. There he was again, a normal teenager attending high school.

Turning right and walking the familiar way towards his locker he willed himself to get through this day somehow, he had to.

Keeping his eyes on the crowd of loud and rambling students he spotted MJ talking to another girl from the team. Betty, he guessed, was chatting eagerly while MJ nodded along, nearly not as engaged but listening nonetheless. They noticed him walk by, Betty?- god he should really invest more time hanging around the team- smiled at him and waved happily. MJ, true to herself, held up her usual middle finger at him but, to his surprise, gave him a honest smile.

Peter smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture. 

‘'PETER!’’ A loud yell boomed through the hallway and the boy was suddenly embraced by a mass of best friend.

He smiled and hugged Ned back right away. This, he missed this.

‘'Peter are you alright?’’, his best friend asked him retreating from the hug and placing a hand on his shoulder. Ned knew what happened. It’s been a week and of course they’ve been texting. But this was the first time they actually saw each other again and Peter sensed the worry Ned must have felt. 

Was he alright? Peter didn’t know. He just knew that the sadness hasn’t left him yet and his chest was still hurting at night when he woke up tormented by his dreams and the dread of reality. 

Regardless he looked at his best friend and smiled. 

He wouldn’t have wanted Peter to feel like this, to not move on, and to not life his live the way he promised him to. 

‘'You know, actually, I’m going to be alright.’’ 

It was a new day after all.

-

Peter was in his room, studying for a chemistry test. Only a week and his teachers already thought it would be a good idea to go right back to how it was even with half the students suddenly present again. 

Honestly, yes, they probably were right and moving on like nothing happened was the best way to deal with the situation. The boy was actually trying to do the same but only on a complete different and more personal level.

Chewing on his pencil and furrowing his brows he read the same sentence for the fifth time, still not grasping what he was supposed to do. Not because he did not understand but because he simply couldn’t concentrate.

Sighing he laid his head on the worksheet and grasped his phone that was laying beside him to check his messages.

As he was answering a text from Ned a knocking sounded off. The door opened and his aunt stepped in carefully. ‘'Sorry to interrupt your studying’’, she grimaced while stepping closer to his desk. In her right hand he spotted a white envelope. ‘'I totally forgot you got a letter in the mail today’’. She placed it on the table and biting her lip, nervously watching her nephew. 

At first Peter didn’t get it. He never got any letters, why would he? He wasn’t paying any bills yet and everything school related he did through e-mails. 

Eyeing the envelope he realized, no, this wasn’t a simple letter, it was an invitation. 

Scrambling to a sitting position again he reached out and hastily opened it. His aunt was watching his every move already having guessed why a letter would be addressed to her 16 year old kid. 

The boy, seemingly even more tense now, gulped loudly and opened the white and fancy looking invitation carefully. Eyes scanning the paper he felt a cold shiver run down his spine and tears -tears he was sure he didn't have left anymore- wallowed up. 

No, this was too soon. Has it been that long already? 

‘Invitation for Peter Parker and May Parker to the funeral of Anthony Edward Stark.’ 

It was a reminder. A cruel and heartbreaking reminder of what he had lost. And not only that. Peter felt it, the guilt setting in because not only was he trying to move on, he was acting like everything was perfectly fine. Doing schoolwork and the like. But as a matter of fact nothing would ever be the same again and therefore nothing would ever be quite right again.

A hand suddenly ripped him from his thoughts. ‘'Peter…’’ May sounded worried, of course she was. These days Peter felt like it was the only thing she did.

‘'I know this is hard for you, losing someone close to you. I just want you to know I’m here for you no matter what.’’ She sighed lightly before continuing. ‘'This will be hard but I really think we should go and-’’ 

‘'What? Of course I will go!’’ Peter interrupted her abruptly, looking up for the first time in minutes with desperation and misery in his wet eyes.

He owed it not only to himself but to Mr.Stark. Which meant he couldn’t let his sadness get in the way. Hell, he wasn’t the only one mourning and he shouldn’t act like he was the most affected. Peter was an acquaintance, a mentee and backup. Nothing compared to what other people must have meant to Mr. Stark.

‘'We need to go Aunt May..I need to do this. I can’t pretend like everything is okay like this…’’, the boy squeezed his eyes shut and handed May the invitation without another word.

She quickly scanned through the paper still scrunching up her brows in worry. ‘’The reception is this Sunday at Mr.Stark’s and Mrs. Pott’s lake house.’’ Folding the invitation back neatly she glanced at her nephew, who was staring at his fiddling hands like the most interesting thing on earth. His nails were also shorter than usual, probably bitten off due to anxiety and stress.

May took Peter’s hands into hers and slowly interwined their fingers.’'I’m guessing only people who were close to Mr.Stark will be there, nothing public of any sort or else they would have chosen a different location.’’ 

Peter chewed his bottom lip anxiously. Close to Mr. Stark? He wasn’t even sure anymore what he could be counted as.

All those big heroes would be there, people Mr. Stark worked with for many years. Old friends would probably appear, maybe even from his days at MIT. And most importantly his family was going to be there.

The boy felt kinda silly being invited. Obviously he was just a simple kid, a kid who followed Mr. Stark around and probably annoyed him more the less.

‘'Peter?’’

 _Just a kid. Nothing more nothing less. Who was he kidding?_  

_He should just get over it and move on._

‘'Peter.’’ 

His mind snapped back to his aunt, hands still in hers but now shaking more than ever.

‘'I’m going to be there with you the whole time Peter.’’, May smiled at him and stroked his hands trying to cease the shaking a bit. ‘'And I think this will help you. Get closure, mourn and slowly move on.’’ She stood up carefully, taking the invitation with her and walked to the door.

Yes, Peter needed closure. But how was he going to get through this without falling apart before?

He sighed, dried his slightly wet eyes and continued reading the chapter about halogen alkanes once again.

_‘Slow progress Parker, slow progress.’’_

-

Sunday arrived faster than Peter would have imagined. With schoolwork and tests throughout the week he was mostly pretty busy and distracted.

But now he sat next to his aunt in the car, wearing his nicest suit - to be honest his only suit and at that the one from his homecoming ball- and trying to distract himself with anything really. 

It was too soon. Way too soon if you asked Peter. He wasn’t ready to bury another person.

Yet he had no time left to contemplate what would happen today as the car came to a stop in front of a wooden, big house. It was beautiful and looked so peaceful, dare he say even homey. Right behind the house was a lake, the water glistening from the warm afternoon light was calm. It looked unreal. Too perfect for a funeral. Usually you would want rain on a sad, mourning day like this, something to at least match the mood of everybody, but it was the exact opposite. Yes, Peter noted, this seemed like the most beautiful place in the universe right now. The place of Tony Stark’s funeral.

Peter wanted to throw up.

They got out of the car, having parked it next to the few other cars that were gathered at the front.

Walking up to the door Peter mentally prepared himself for what was to come, only he actually had no clue what to except. He felt his Aunt’s warm hand in his and concentrated on the feeling, something to ground him. She rang the doorbell and only a few seconds later the door opened. 

Happy Hogan’s face greeted the two outside. As usual he looked professional, just the way Peter got to know him years ago, a man who was in control of his surroundings. It settled Peter’s anxiety slightly, seeing something so familiar and he was glad for a second. But as he looked closer Happy’s eyes held a different reality. Sunken in with a far off look.

Peter guessed he himself didn’t look better. 

‘'Peter, Mrs. Parker, it’s good to see you both. Please come in.’’, Happy greeted them, professional like always. ‘'I’m just making sure only invited people are around today. The other guests are in the backyard, just step through the living room and you’ll see.’’ 

May smiled politely and thanked him, walking into the house and through to the living room.

‘'Uhm..’’, Peter stopped and turned to Happy as he watched his aunt disappear into the next room. His hands already fiddling with his sleeves again, a habit due to anxiety, Peter frowned. ‘'Is this everybody? Uhm I mean aren’t more people gonna be here for the..uhm..for the funeral?’’

Happy narrowed his eyes at the boy. A few seconds later he calmly laid his hand on Peters shoulder. ‘'Only the closest people to Mr. Stark will be here today, kid. Nothing public. Just friends and family.’’, Happy said and walked away. 

‘'Oh.’’ Peter’s voice was small and barely audible. _Closest friends and family?_

Not wanting to analyze it further, he followed Happy quietly, dreading what was about to happen.

Time moved quickly like a movie from then on for Peter. Quickly but at the same time so slow it was tormenting him. No funeral is quite the same even though the same thing always happened. Things are being said, the dead person gets buried, people cry. Just the usual. But for Peter this funeral was so much more.

In fact Happy was right, only very few people were present. Obviously Pepper and their daughter, a few of the Avengers and some other people Peter didn’t know. One being a young boy, probably his age.

It was all so private and special. Beautiful, as they placed his old arc reactor along with flowers on the lake. The sun was slowly setting, drowning the sky in an eerie orange, which the water reflected. Everyone watched as the water carried the arranged memory across the lake, like a ship slowly leaving the harbour as people cried out, wishing for a safe journey.

Only it was the end of a journey.

Peter was crying, silently as he watched the scene unfold. He felt the sadness in the air on this day. Mr. Stark was dead and for the first time in two weeks he couldn’t deny it.

Anthony Edward Stark, the saviour of everyone, deserved the most beautiful funeral in the universe. It was, it really was breathtaking. But also, consequently, the saddest funeral in the universe.

Peter kept on watching the sunset, hands on his shoulders grounding him and trying to comfort him. At least he didn’t have to do this alone.

After the ceremony a small get together was held in the backyard.The whole mourning and remembering together thing with food, drinks and such.

It felt weird. Seeing everyone again, people Peter had fought side by side with. On any other occasion the boy would have been full with energy, amazed at seeing every hero so casually. He would have asked questions, probably rambled the whole time, the classic Peter Parker fashion.

But under these circumstances he mostly kept to himself, running on autopilot and trying, desperately, to process that, yes indeed, they just buried Mr. Stark for good. He didn’t have any tears left anymore and for the first minutes he just followed Aunt May around, who politely talked to a few other guests. But quickly getting tired of hearing the same conservations, because obviously the range of topics at a funeral were limited, he sat down in a lawn chair close to the lake.

Resting his head in his hands he watched the water with no particular interest. At least for a moment he just wanted to stop thinking, not remember anything, because it hurt just thinking of Mr. Stark in the past tense.

‘'What a shitshow am I right?’’

A voice all of sudden startled the boy out of his trance. The wood of the chair next to Peter’s creaked loudly as another person abruptly sat down beside him. The boy  or rather young man had short, dark blond hair and a solemnly look on his face, Peter noted. He looked tense in his black suit as he leaned back into the chair with half lidded eyes like he’d rather fall asleep in the next minutes than spend another second mingling at a funeral.

Peter really couldn’t blame him. Yet one question remained: _What the hell?_

For nearly a minute Peter just stared at him, unsure and unnerved.

The light haired boy on the other hand just relaxed into the chair, crossed his ankles and closed his eyes. One would have thought he were asleep and Peter was just so damn confused.

Again, what the hell?

‘'Uh….wha-’’ Peter stammered before being interrupted.

‘'I’m Harley.’’, the boy, Harley, didn’t even look up just stayed as he was.

Peter looked at him intensely before slowly replying. ‘'I’m Peter.’’

Establishing this they continued to sit in silence, staring at the water. Peter wouldn’t have called it an awkward silence, actually it was the opposite really. In a strange way it felt like mutual understanding, both of them sitting there by the lake on a late afternoon. .

Then again there was still the big question swirling in Peter’s head. What was Harley’s relation to Mr. Stark? Why has Peter never seen him before?

His eyes darted over to the other boy, brows furrowed in confusion. Something ugly and unsettling formed in his stomach, was that jealousy? Of a person he didn’t even know?

‘'I don’t wanna be rude or anything, actually it’s totally not my business and this is probably not the best place and moment to talk about stuff like this.’’, Peter rambled awkwardly. Damn it, he’s never been good at explaining his intentions, why was he so awkward all the time.

Harley on the other hand just looked on solemnly and listened to the stammering boy beside him. He could already guess what Peter would ask him. Some random boy at Tony Stark’s funeral, yeah that’s about to raise some questions among the other guests. 

‘'What I’m actually trying to ask is, who are you exactly and why-’’

‘'You’re really great at talking quickly I give you that.’’ he interrupted Peter with a light smirk on his face as he turned his head to look at him. 

‘'And yeah I probably should have introduced myself, I’m sorry about that.’’, he admitted truthfully. ‘'I was an acquaintance of Tony a few years back. Helped him when he was in trouble with some bad guys, or something like that. He crashed at my place for a bit and used some of my tools to repair his suit.’’.

‘'If you know Tony, of course, he didn’t just thank me like a normal person.’’, Harley laughed slightly before continuing. ‘'We stayed in contact, he’d always ask how I was doing in school, how my family was doing and kept talking me into visiting him one day. He was a constant presence in my life from then on.’’

Peter listened intensely, his eyes growing wider the more Harley talked about.

‘'At the beginning I told him that my father abandoned my family and that my mother worked a lot, leaving me and my sister alone most of the time.’’, he clenched his fist. ‘'But in spite of everything Tony Stark stayed and supported us. Send us money every month anonymously, wished my a Happy Birthday every damn year and talked to me whenever he could.’’

‘'Tony Stark was a close friend and more of a dad than my real father ever was.’’, a soft smile formed on Harley’s face as he recalled everything Tony had done for him throughout the years. However the dull sadness, the loss he felt, reminded him aggressively of what he had lost and what he would always miss from now on.

‘'After everything of course I’m gonna attend his funeral.’’

Harley stared at his hands, this was the most he has said today and damn did it feel good to speak of him. The boy, Peter,  even was a great listener despite having a rambling problem.

‘'By the way, I didn’t know Tony had a son as well. He never mentioned you before, but I’m glad I got to meet you, even under these circumstances.’’

‘'What?!’’, Peter’s eyes grew wide and his cheeks turned red. He? Tony Stark’s son? What a ridiculous notion! He laughed awkwardly ‘'Actually I’m not related to Mr. Stark in any way. I’m just his intern...well I was his intern.’’

The light haired boy cocked his head to the side and scanned Peter’s face intensely. ‘'Oh, I just assumed, my bad.’’ Meeting his eyes yet he admitted ‘'You’re awfully infested for just an intern though, you sure your relationship wasn’t more than just business?’’

He spluttered slightly, starting to fidget with his sleeves again. He wasn’t sure...was he just an intern, Iron Man’s backup or just a boy Mr. Stark took pity on?   

‘'Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.’’, Harley sighed and turned around in his chair again, watching the water of the lake lapping at the grass covered shore. It was so peaceful, he now understood why Tony would want to live in such a secluded place. Life seemed to slow down here.

Peter, still not sure about anything at this point, leaned back into the chair and welcomed the tranquility of the lake one again. The sun was starting to set, the sky painted a deep orange, making the water reflect its colours in the most beautiful way.

‘'I really miss him.’’

‘'Me too.’’

Together they sat like that soaking up their mutual sorrow for someone who has meant so much to them. It connected them in a sad and twisted way and for the most part they should have never met like this.

Tony Stark brought people together even after his death.  

- 

Twenty minutes later it was getting pretty dark next to the lake and most of the other guests have entered the house  where drinks where being served, only very few guests still remained outside. The cold nipped at Peter’s fingertips and he didn’t even have to touch his nose to know how icy and red it must have been now.

Harley didn’t look any better as well, shivers blatantly noticeable even under his baggy suit. It really was time to get inside and leave their bubble of serenity after all. But they’ve been there for over half an hour and Aunt May and other people would probably worry if they didn’t appear again soon, even though it was a funeral it still was a social event. 

Therefore they stood up leisurely and made their way to the porch of the wooden home in front of them.

Before entering the house though, Peter soundlessly turned around once more, catching a last glint of the lake, the place of the funeral. Has it really been only two hours since they buried Mr. Stark? Time was moving so fast already.

 The warmth welcomed him as they stepped through the doorway, his hands tingling slightly. The first thing he heard on the contrary was a loud ‘'Peter!’’ coming from the other side of the room.

Happy Hogan came marching towards him, a determined look in his eyes. Harley seeing this just patted his new friend on the shoulder and sneaked off into the lounge, following the smell of food and murmur of people.

 _Yeah just leave me here to deal with Happy alone,_ Peter thought bitterly.

It’s not like he didn’t like talking to Happy, but especially today he felt like he had no energy left nor the patience.

‘'Damn kid this house is nothing compared to other properties and it still took me ten minutes to find you!’’, Happy said slightly out of breath.

‘'Mrs. Potts was asking for you, she’s in the kitchen right now.’’

Okay wait what, why would Pepper Potts want to talk to him? Today was such a tremendous day for her and she really wanted to talk to him regardless? Peter was at a loss for words.

‘'The kitchen’s down the the hall, you can’t miss it.’’ Happy continued and promptly left Peter again to follow Harley to the lounge.

The kid gulped, still standing in the hallway as awkwardly as one could be in a strange house. Better not make Mrs. Potts wait, he thought as he started his way down the hall to the kitchen.  

Walking down the hallway towards the kitchen he noted several framed photos hanging on the light brown walls. Photos of a small wedding ceremony, photos of Pepper holding a baby close in her arms, photos of Mr. Stark building a treehouse, photos of their daughter throwing a tea party in the backyard. A photo of Mr. Stark hugging his daughter and kissing her cheek.

It was so strange for Peter, seeing Mr. Starks last five years, the years after the snap, pass by him like a blur. Everywhere he looked he saw a happy family and naturally it made Peter beam slightly, but no matter what, it stung regardless.  

_God, he deserved more time._

At the end of the hallway he reached this destination. Once again Peter noted curiously the atmosphere of the kitchen, which threw him off slightly. It was homey, cozy and especially nothing Peter was used too at the compound or the Avengers tower. No, this room wasn’t overly clean, modern nor extravagant, it was so unlike Tony Stark and yet something so fitting.

But most importantly right in front of the sink, facing the window, stood Pepper Potts. Her posture was tense in the black dress, her hands clenching the counter tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment.

As Peter stood in the doorway, intimidated regardless of the situation,  he considered knocking for a split second but before he could even raise his fist Pepper Potts swiftly turned around, as she must have heard his footsteps coming down the hall.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of Peter standing right in front of her. ‘'Peter it’s good to see you.’’, she greeted him with a firm voice, no tension or sadness to be sensed as opposed to merely a minute ago when Peter arrived. She was pulling herself together, yet, whether for Peter’s sake or herself he didn’t know. 

Not even having time to answer her Peter got pulled into a firm hug, the tall woman embracing him like the most normal thing in the world. It was sudden, unexpected, but nevertheless comforting, for the both of them.

‘'Mrs. Potts-’’ Peter started before getting interrupted right away. ‘'It’s Pepper Peter, there’s no reason for you to be calling me by my last name.’’ she smiled down at him and retreated from the hug. ‘’How are you holding up?’’

Peter opened his mouth before closing it again, eyes widening at the question. She was seriously asking if he was alright? This sounded so very twisted in his head, because, obviously, he should have been the one asking the question. Today was her husband’s funeral and still she was making sure Peter was doing alright. Her kindness and strength never ceased to surprise him. 

‘'I’m okay I guess..’’ he mumbled and looked down at his feet awkwardly.

Pepper’s eyes softened at the sight of the young boy. He looked so small and vulnerable in that moment, just a mere child, trying to deal with the feeling of loss and a remaining emptiness in his chest. She wished he didn’t have to endure this. And just like this, Peter overwhelmed by emotions yet covering it up not to worry anyone, he reminded her of Tony, in a way, and Pepper wanted to cry again at that sight. 

‘'Uhm Happy told me you wanted to talk about something.’’ Peter’s voice cut through her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she nodded in affirmation.

‘'That’s true. I wanted to show you something.’’, she answered and walked up to the sink behind her eyes focusing on something Peter couldn’t see from his spot in the middle of the room.

Not even a few seconds later she turned back around and in her hand she was clutching a black frame Peter curiously eyed.

Wordlessly she handed him the black picture frame and what Peter saw when he looked at it made his body freeze up, any words dying on his tongue.

It was a photo. A photo of him and Mr. Stark. It seemed like such a long time ago, and yeah admittedly it was, the day at the compound.

Peter, who visited at least one time a week, was working on his web shooters with Mr. Stark, trying to maximize the reach of his webs for environments with few obstacles. Two hours into working Mr. Stark suddenly sprang up. ‘'Since we’ve been doing this whole lab time thingy for a few months now why not make it official Mr. Parker?’’, he said grinning reassuringly. The boy looked up from his equations with wonder in his eyes, raising one eyebrow in question. ‘'Let’s make you my intern Pete.’’

The result was an official document and the photo Happy took of them after they both signed it.

The photo Peter currently held in his hands. Looking at it he saw two people smiling at the camera, goofily holding up peace signs behind the others head. Peter didn’t know what to say because looking at it everything he had just lost got thrown in his face. His hands started to shake slowly and he could feel his ears ringing. _Why? Why did he have to go?_  

A sudden, warm hand on his shoulder kindly pulled him out from underwater. Looking up he saw Pepper staring at him intensely a sad smile gracing her lips.

‘'He looked at it every day in the past five years.’’, Pepper began explaining. ‘'The constant fear of forgetting, forgetting you, plagued him deeply. I tried telling him that there’d be no way he could forget a kid like you, Peter.’’, The boy felt his eyes begin to water again, hanging on every word of Pepper. 

‘'Tony never said it out loud, but I knew he believed that he owed this to you. Because no matter what happened five years ago, he always blamed himself for your death and it kept him awake more nights than I have time to count.’’, Pepper truthfully told him frowning slightly.

Silent tears streamed down his face as he listened to everything he feared. It wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault he wanted to say, he shouldn’t have felt guilt and it ate away at Peter, that he never would have the chance to tell him. No, scratch that, Peter wanted to yell at him, scream some sense into him and his twisted view of reality.

‘'I-I don’t know what to say.’’, Peter stammered not pulling his eyes away from the photo for one second.

‘'You’re the only reason Tony figured out time travel Peter.’’

And _that, that sentence slapped Peter across the face. Now, he didn’t expect that._

''What I’m trying to say, and actually the reason I wanted to talk to you, is  that Tony adored you.’’, Pepper concluded and Peter was speechless even more so. ‘'You meant a lot to him Peter and I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, it should have been Tony.’’, Pepper hugged herself, her voice getting quieter, though, holding her head high looking into Peter’s eyes.

The silence afterwards flooded the room and Peter knew he needed to say something, anything. The murmurs of the other guests sounding off down the hall, Peter furrowed his brows thinking of any way how to answer.

But only one croaked sentences was able to leave his mouth.

‘'I miss him.’’ 

The crestfallen look on Pepper’s face said it all, the mutual understanding, the pain.

‘'Keep the photo, please, as a reminder, something to hold on to.’’, she offered generously and Peter nodded, not trusting his voice any longer.   

Peter didn’t know what to feel. He was plain out feeling miserable, the whole conversation taking a toll on him, but at the same time he was content, knowing Mr. Stark felt that way about him. It was confusing and Peter had no energy left for confusion.

Next thing he knows a small and sweet sounding voice broke the melancholic silence in the kitchen as a small girl ran up to Pepper.

‘'Mommy!’’

A smile instantly appeared on Pepper’s face, as if their conversation a few moments ago didn’t happen at all. Her daughter raised up her arms, clearly signaling she wanted to be held and Pepper not hesitating a moment swept her up and placed her on her hip, giving her a kiss on the cheek in the process.

Peter froze up completely at the sight in front of him.

Now, he knew of their daughter, but this was the first time he’s met her up front, in such a personal atmosphere. And he saw it. The resemblance. How could he not? This child was clearly the daughter of Mr. Stark, noting the dark hair and brown eyes but also the intelligence behind them.

He didn’t know how to react. Should he say something or just leave quietly?

His small mental breakdown must have shown in his eyes, as Pepper, again, saved him from overthinking the situation.

‘'Peter this is Morgan, mine and Tony’s daughter.’’, she turned slightly so Morgan could see his face clearly and Peter tried putting on a friendly smile. Tried was the keyword, then it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

Though Morgan’s eyes lit up as she stared at him in awe and promptly struggled to be let down again. As her small feet touched the ground again, she ran up to a startled Peter, who must have written confusion all over his face by now.

‘'PETER!’’, Morgan squealed and hugged his leg tightly.

The boy looked at the small child hugging his leg for dear life, while his mouth gaped open out of shock.

How did Morgan know who he was? He’s never meet her before has he?

He didn’t get more time to contemplate, because the girl was already talking again, rambling in excitement. ‘'You’re Spider-Man! Can you really lift a whole bus? Daddy told me you could! You’re his favourite hero!’’

Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She knew him, she knew Spider Man, even though he’s been dead for five years. His head snapped up and his eyes looked at Pepper questioningly and shocked.

She, understanding his reaction right way, smiled down at Morgan before answering. ‘'He never wanted to forget you, so he shared your stories with Morgan. Every other night before her bedtime he’d tell her about the adventures of Spider Man and Peter Parker, the mentee of Iron Man.’’, she laughed lightly. ‘'And Morgan, as suspected, couldn’t get enough of those stories and always demanded to hear more about the boy who fought villains. Tony happily obliged and even showed her photos of you.’’

Now, Peter thought nothing could surprise him anymore today, but this, _this,_ the fact that Mr. Stark wanted his daughter to know him as well even after his death, threw him completely off balance. He was truly touched, that someone so desperately clung to his existence. Tears welled up again in his eyes, though at the same time he couldn’t stop the watery and fond smile that formed on his lips.

_Mr. Stark._

A tugging at his pants made him look down. Morgan’s eyes watched him carefully, still excited and amazed nonetheless. Peter wiped away the water in his eyes swiftly and crouched down in front of Morgan. 

‘'I’m really happy to meet you Morgan.’’, he breathed out.

The girl beamed at him and started again, asking him questions curiously.

Pepper watched the scene unfold with a far off look in her eyes. She crossed her arms and bit her lips, trying to keep her tears in. Not here, not in front of their daughter. Looking at Morgan and Peter interacting so effortless and delighted made her heart swell up, but god, did it also make her miserable. 

This was what Tony was fighting for. He deserved to be here, to watch his daughter and son meet each other. He deserved to hear their joined rambling and laughter sound through the kitchen on a quiet evening. But he wasn’t here.

Pepper couldn’t do anything but hold a hand in front of her mouth to stop a sob from escaping her lips and watch the two kids. 

A few moments later Happy came stumbling through the door to the kitchen, cutting Peter off as he tried to explain the technology behind his web shooters to an intensely listening Morgan.

‘'Morgan there you are, isn’t it past your bedtime already?’’, Happy asked and smiled at the scene in the kitchen.

Pepper snapping out of her thoughts quickly lifted her wrist and gasped at the time. Nearly 8pm, it was way past Morgan’s bedtime.

‘'I was looking for Mommy to tug me in, but then I met Peter, uncle Happy! How can I be tired if Spider Man is standing in my kitchen.’’, the girl explained seriously.

Pepper and Happy laughed lightly, while Peter watched on amazed. Such a smart child.

Still, Pepper picked the now yawning girl up regardless and kissed her cheek lovingly.

‘'It’s time to say goodnight now though sweetie. Spider-Man can always visit again and answer all your questions.’’ The girl closed her eyes muttering out a quick goodnight to both Happy and Peter.

‘'The last guests have left a few minutes ago, oh and Peter your aunt is waiting outside, she asked me to get you.’’, Happy explained.

Peter nodded, right, he totally forgot the time. May must have been worried where he’s been the whole time, because last time she saw him he was still sitting in the lawn chair by the lake.

Pepper, holding a sleepy Morgan in her arms, smiled at him kindly. ‘'Peter thank you for coming today, you know, you’re always welcome here no matter what. And I bet Morgan would love to see you again.’’, she stroked through Morgan’s hair while looking at the boy meaningful. ‘'You’re always gonna be a part of this family if you wish to be.’’

And with that Pepper turned around, waving one more time as she made her way to the stairs to tuck Morgan into bed.

Grasping the picture frame in his hands, their photo, he frowned lightly. Pepper, the person who lost her husband, seemed so calm and collected on the outside, willing to move forward no matter what. If for the sake of their daughter or herself, but Peter desperately wished he could act just a bit like her. Yet, only counting today he cried several times and nearly had two breakdowns, how was this supposed to get better? How was he supposed to just forget what happened? Let alone seeing Morgan made him want to weep from loss.

‘'Kid, your aunt is waiting, let’s go.’’

Oh, right. May was waiting, the funeral was over, it was time to go home.

As they made their way down the hallway back to the front door, the picture frame weighting, what felt like tons in his hands, Happy placed a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. The same act as Peter arrived here a few hours ago.

Stepping out of the house a shiver ran down Peter’s spine as the cool evening air swept through his suit, he could see his aunt’s car a few feet way with her already inside on her phone. Crossing his arms due the cold, though still grasping the photo, always grasping the photo, he looked over to Happy and opened his mouth to bid him goodbye.

However Happy stepped in before Peter could even get a word out. ‘'Look kid...’’, his eyes trailed to the photo grasped in Peter’s hands and he sighed. ‘'This doesn’t change anything. If you need something, I’m always here. No matter what, I’ll answer my phone. Peter Parker related things and Spider-Man related things, I’m-’’

‘'I’m not Spider-Man’’, Peter mumbled, looking down at his feet. ‘'Or at least not right now.’’

Happy’s eyes widened as he looked at the young boy, looking so small in the dark suit, grasping the photo even tighter. ‘'What do you mean, Peter?’’

Peter sighed, feeling colder as more seconds passed by. What did he mean? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that he can’t do it, he can’t wear the suit, not yet, not after everything. This did not mean he wanted to give up being Spider-Man, no that wasn’t an option for him. He just needed some time, time to process what happened and time to move on. 

‘'If I wear the suit now, I’m going to throw up.’’

And with that being said he turned around and walked down the porch towards the car, turning around one last time to wave goodbye to Happy.

Happy watched the broken boy leave with a crestfallen look. He needed to keep a close eye on him, he needed to make sure Peter was going to be alright after everything that happened to him. Tony wasn’t here anymore to ensure the wellbeing of the kid, wasn’t here to comfort him or to cheer him up. He left a big hole for the people who loved him and Peter looked like he was drowning in it.

Shaking his head Happy walked back inside, he needed to see how Pepper was doing.

-

Time moved slowly from then on. Even though Peter was busy with school, having a few upcoming exams and tests, and trying to help his aunt out around the apartment, he was still struggling to pull through day after day.

On top of that his sleeping pattern was nearly non existent. Every night he struggled with falling asleep, flashbacks from the war always present when he even dared to close his eyes. His body was shaking, hands twitching and his brain wouldn’t let him rest, like he was still on the battlefield mind alarmed at every movement around him.

It was torture.

Additionally when he did manage to fall asleep, night terrors would wake him a few hours later. Shaking awake in cold sweat, tears streaming down his face Peter hugged himself and squeezed his eyes shut painfully. He just wanted it to be over.

Yet, the worst part of it all was seeing his face over and over again in his nightmares. A beaten face, sunken in from exhaustion and those, dead and empty eyes, eyes that have seen and faced the horrors of the universe. This was always how his night terrors ended and the moment he cried or sometimes, when it’s really bad, screamed himself awake.

Those times he cried out in horror and pain, aunt May would come stumbling into his room, alarmed yet sleepy eyes would stare at him for a few seconds before she’d slowly walk up to his bed, sit down and stroke his back lovingly until his cries quieted down. The sad, devastating look of her pierced through his body and in that moment he wished he could just be a normal teenager, wished he could spare May from having to see him like that.

Broken.

But no matter what Peter was never able to fall back asleep and stayed awake the remaining hours until his alarm would go off, staring at the dull ceiling of his small room, and a few times even hugging the picture frame that sat securely on his nightstand during the day.

He admitted it, he was messed up. But who wouldn’t be after facing the the things he did?

His aunt, his friends and, hell, even his teachers noticed something wasn’t quite right and most importantly it wasn’t getting better. After the snap many people got left with mental health problems, far more than before naturally. Though Peter was different story and the people who knew him saw it every day. He simply wasn’t the old Peter Parker anymore, still remaining high grades and such but his personality seemed duller, more guarded than ever.

Peter did try, oh how did he try, to go back to how it was. But it wasn’t as easy as people made it out to be.

And that’s how he went to school that day, after sleeping for four hours and waking up terrorized again. He was determined to just experience a normal day, without any anxiety attacks, flashbacks or the constant worried glances of people around him, especially his best friend Ned.

Honestly? It was even going alright. As he greeted Ned with their usual made up handshake and his locker, he was feeling content and even joked around a bit while walking to their first class that day. Advanced chemistry, one of his favourite subjects, even let him forget about his lack of sleep, too busy answering his teacher’s questions and writing protocols for his next experiment.   

Peter was surprised, really he was, since anything regarding science usually reminded him of Mr. Stark right away, their days spend together in his lab going over inventions, Stark tech or even school projects. But today he was able to blend it all out and just enjoyed being a normal, not traumatized, student in high school.

Nevertheless his streak of luck came to an end during lunch.

He was sitting at the table with Ned, Michelle, Betty -which yeah he actually was right about her name- and other students. His lunch consisted of one, big cup of black coffee and a tuna sandwich, he bought at a shop before school started. Nothing special, but Peter hoped the coffee would help him endure the rest of the day and stay awake the remaining classes he had this afternoon.

A small smile graced his lips as he was listening to Ned and MJ arguing which Star Wars era was the better one, good old times it was in that moment and Peter relished in that feeling.

After a while another student from the team, one Peter didn’t know yet,  joined them at their table, hungrily digging into his school lunch and watching Ned and MJ discuss with their hands gesturing widely.  

Peter eventually felt eyes on him and instantly he made himself smaller, wanting to escape the gaze, even his spidey senses acting up, sensing something was about to happen. 

The new boy at the table, finishing his lunch and simultaneously watching Peter closely didn’t wait long right before opening his mouth. ‘'You’re Peter Parker, am I right? Dude wasn’t it crazy what happened a few weeks back?’’, the boy started speaking. 

 _Please no, please don’t mention it, just please._ Peter thought desperately, avoiding at all cost to look directly into his eyes and rather eyed his fumbling hands, his anxiety acting up again as soon as one word left the other student’s mouth.

Though, the boy didn’t notice anything off, didn’t notice Peter’s forced grimace and twitching hands and just kept on talking. ‘'But isn’t this totally weird for you? After all you had a Stark Industries internship, some people even say you knew Tony Stark! Say does his death change anything for you, do you still have your internship? And-’’

‘'Dude shut up, this is none of your business. You finished your lunch, so better get going.’’, MJ’s calm but clearly pissed of voice cut the boy off and her glare send him scrambling up from his seat, like lightning had struck him. Ned and her had stopped their debate as they heard the dreaded words.  

Peter’s ears were ringing, he felt like he was underwater again. He was biting his lips forcefully, drawing blood while his hands couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Why did he have to say something? Why those words? His day has been going so well, so well, Peter wanted to cry.

The next thing he knew, Ned’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of the water and he gasped lightly, head snapping upwards and taking in all the worried faces at the table. Worried, concerned and ultimately full of pity.

Shaking his head shamefully, he stood up slowly, still sensing all eyes on him. He needed to get out of there, now. ‘'I-I’m just gonna go. Still need to do something, I’ll see you all tomorrow.’’, he mumbled nearly inaudible. Picking up his beat up backpack from the cafeteria floor he casted a last glance at a worried Ned and turned around to walk out of the room.

Clearly planning to ditch his last classes of the day, Peter shuffled down the empty hallway, everyone being still at lunch, and tried to stop any tears that have welled up the last minutes.

Walking through the door, leaving the school, however, a person was waiting for him with a deep frown on his face in front of a sleek black car.

Happy Hogan stood outside the school, totally throwing Peter off guard.

_What the hell?_

‘'Peter, what are you doing outside the school? If I remember correctly you still have classes till 4pm today.’’, Happy asked him with one raised eyebrow, not even giving him a chance to take in the situation.

‘'Well, what are you doing outside the school? If I remember correctly you’re not a student anymore?’’, he retorted challenging. To be honest he just wanted to go home now, hiding under his blankets and forgetting the day even started. Peter wanted to run and hide, but Happy, he just had to stand in his way, his escape plan he was clinging to. His patience was running out.

Happy, on the other hand, just chuckled at Peter’s answer, not a glimpse of anger or irritation creeping up on his face.

‘'Actually, I was about to pick you up anyway. We need to talk Peter.’’

‘'Talk? Happy, now is really not the best time, uhm, I’m feeling pretty sick and, really, just wanted to go home and lie down.’’ It was the truth, kinda, well, if you count anxiety attacks and flashbacks as feeling sick, that is.

Happy just looked the boy up and down and sighed eventually. ‘'Kid.’’, he started, carefully. ‘'It’s been three weeks, without having heard anything from you. But the most concerning thing is that the last time Spider-Man was sighted was five years ago, before the snap.’’

 _Ah._ That was the reason Happy searched him out. It was about Spider-Man, of course. Peter hasn’t worn the suit since the battle, which was five weeks ago, precisely. And sure, the public was wondering where the web slinging hero of New York has disappeared to, some even speculated he never returned from the snap or was just dead. Yeah, Peter was aware he hasn’t stepped up as a hero ever since, well ever since Mr. Stark has died.

‘'I just can’t Happy, you wouldn’t understand..’’

‘'And that’s exactly what we are going to talk about. Get in the car kid.’’, Happy said with his usual aura of authority.

‘'I can’t, May will be worried and not happy that I left school for that reason.’’

‘'Don’t worry I talked to her, she knows about this, so you’re safe to get into the car now kid.’’, Happy concluded and opened the door to the driver’s side. ‘'And hurry up, I don’t have all day.’’

‘'You talk to aunt May?!’' 

Unwillingly and slightly disturbed Peter entered the car and took a seat in the passenger seat in the front. Thankfully Happy only glanced at him for a mere second and didn’t comment on him not sitting in the back, at least something Peter thought.

Turns out they were headed for Peter’s home, since Happy wanted to talk about the Spider-Man issue and it wasn’t like that was some kind of topic to be discussed in public areas. And, naturally, the compound didn’t exist anymore, which Peter wouldn’t want to visit under the new circumstances anyway.

Only half an hour, spend mostly in silence, which was a big difference from the loud excited chatter that always flowed through the car the way it used to be, they arrived at the apartment. Peter was glad, at least he did get to go home like he planned, but he was dreading the talk because he knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, talking about what happened and how it was still affecting him so strongly.

Five weeks weren’t enough time. Grief takes time.

After having left his shoes by the door since he didn’t plan on May getting mad again, because last time he left his shoes on he dragged mud all over the apartment and Peter swore he didn’t mean to. He was lost in his thoughts, like most of the time these days.

At least May can never stay mad for long.

Easily he took off his jacket and continued his stroll to his room, not giving Happy another glance for the time being. He knew his way around, well, at least Peter hoped so. He hasn’t been to the cosy apartment that many times, never had a reason to, considering if Peter needed to be picked up for something he’d always meet Happy in front of the building.  

Still, the apartment, especially Peter’s room, was very small, so Happy would hopefully get the message to stay in the living room.

Opening the door to his room, the boy threw his backpack carelessly on the chair by his desk. The room was truly a mess and Peter winced at the sight of his closet, taking a deep breath simultaneously.

Obviously he was dreading the talk. He wanted to go home to escape and maybe even try to sleep for once. But now, now he had to talk about everything, how he felt since the battle and especially the whole Spider-Man issue. His hands started quivering again, all his worries spiking his anxiety even more so and damn it.

_‘Damn it Parker, get your shit together.’_

Clenching his trembling fists he could hear Happy’s voice from the living room, calling out to him. How long has Peter been standing there?

Casting another glance at his closet with sickness spiking inside of him, Peter shoved his hands hastily in his pockets, aiming to hide his obvious wariness. 

When he returned to the living room Happy was already sitting on the beat up couch, clearly somewhat uncomfortable in his current surroundings but still remaining a professional face nonetheless. The true Happy fashion, at least something that hadn’t changed.

He sat down slowly on the other couch and turned to face the man, but looked down at the hands that now rested in his lap. ‘ _Stop quivering before he notices’,_ Peter kept thinking.

Happy, on the other hand, was analyzing the young boy profoundly, worry plaguing his head since the funeral. He looked so broken a few weeks ago and, to the mans unease, he was still looking absolutely demolished and unhealthy. The large, nearly purple, bags under his eyes and the constant far off look on Peter’s face, additionally the trembling going on at the moment, proved his point.

He really should have talked to him sooner.

‘'Peter’’, Happy’s voice cut through the silence all of sudden. ‘'How are you doing?’’, stupid question, Happy was aware, but the best way to approach the boy.

Peter didn’t react right away, in fact it took him nearly a minute to whisper out a short, ‘'I’m doing alright.’’ with a strained voice.

The fat lie could be seen from miles away.

‘'Come on kid, that’s not an honest answer and you know it, why-’’

‘'What do you want me to say Happy?!’’, the boy looked up, for the first time since he sat down, tired but fed up eyes gleaming at the man across from him.  ‘'That I’m doing better than ever? That everything’s like before? That he’s not..he’s not dead?!’’

The furious eyes lost their glint at the last part, and were starting to glisten from welled up tears. From fury or sadness, none of them knew.

Happy sighed lightly, he should have known Peter could react strongly like this. ‘'Kid, I’m not asking you to do any of those things. I know it’s been rough for you, but I feel like you’re somehow stuck at the moment. Why aren’t you Spider-Man anymore, what’s keeping you from protecting the little guy?’’ 

Peter bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut and his trembling hands getting worse by the minute.

Carefully he opened his mouth, hoping he’d be able to form comprehensible words. His sight already blurred from the water in his eyes, he was emotionally exhausted.

‘'Everywhere I go, I see his face. I just really miss him.’’

Peter’s red rimmed eyes looked at Happy with an utter most and brutal honesty. His words leaving the room with a heartbroken and desperate atmosphere. 

‘'Yeah, I miss him too.’’, Happy admitted truthfully, his eyes trailing down for a few seconds.

It was true, Tony Stark’s death left a gaping hole in many people’s life and it was hard getting used to it, to not drown in it, like Peter was doing unaware.

‘'I don’t think Tony would have done what he did, if he hadn’t known that you were gonna be here after he was gone.’’, Happy explained slowly and watching the boy closely. In a way Peter was Tony Stark’s legacy, only Peter hadn’t realized it yet.

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. ‘'What are you saying? That Tony wanted me to take his place eventually?’’. 

‘'I honestly don’t know Peter, but I know that you meant a lot to Tony, more than most people ever did. He considered you family, that I’m sure of, so it’s probably not far fetched that he would entrust you with keeping the world safe.’’, Happy shrugged.

Peter’s eyes widened and he wiped the tears quickly from his eyes with his sweater sleeves. ‘'I can’t be the next Iron Man. I’m just me..’’, his voice trailed off at the end quietly.

‘'No that’s not it. Tony would have never wanted you to be anyone else but yourself, kid.’’, Happy assured him. ‘'He just knew that you’d be there to help people, like he used to. Selfless, caring and courageous.’’

‘'That’s not true. At least not right now.’’

‘'What are you saying?’’

Peter looked down in shame. ‘'It’s the suit, I-I can’t wear it. It reminds me so much of what happened. Mr. Stark build the suit and every time I try to put it on I’m back on the battlefield looking at his dead body.’’ The flashbacks he was already struggling with hit him full force when he felt the familiar suit around his body and he just, he just couldn’t take the torture. He felt weak.

‘'Peter.’’, Happy’s calm voice started. ‘'No one is asking you to jump right back in. I know you’re grieving and struggling, and it’s not fair having to deal with all this at your age. Still, no matter what, you have to move forward or else it’ll eat you up.’’.

Peter looked up and saw the serious look on Happy’s face. Move forward?

‘'Small steps, Peter. You know in that way you really remind me of him, of Tony. Even though you’re experiencing hell you still find a reason to keep going.’’, Happy placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled once before standing up.

Wait, Peter reminded Happy of Mr. Stark? Peter was truly baffled. 

Meanwhile Happy checked his phone and gasped loudly, startling Peter and pulling him out of his thoughts. ‘'Shit, it’s late already.’’, quickly the man pulled on his jacket already on the move again.

Peter looked on, still comprehending what Happy had said to him. 

‘'Kid, I’m sorry I have to leave so abruptly, but I have another appointment in approximately half an hours. You can always text me or call, I promise you, I’ll answer!’’ and with that being said he opened the front door.

Peter scrambled up into a standing position again quickly and followed Happy to the door. Surprisingly the talk with him really helped and he had new hope now to deal with it all, even his anxiety attacks. He was truly glad Happy cared as much as he did.

Smiling at the man lightly, a real smile, he raised a hand and waved. ‘'Thank you Happy, really.’’

‘’Don’t mention it kid.’’, Happy nodded with friendly eyes and turned around to walk out of the apartment. ‘'Just greet your aunt May from me!’’, he yelled over his shoulder before rounding the corner down the hall to the elevator.

‘'Why would you want me to greet aunt May?!’’, Peter’s distant, irritated shout could be heard right before the door slammed shut.

-

Even though the conversation with Happy helped, Peter still felt far from being alright.

 _‘Move forward or it’ll eat you up.’_ , those words kept repeating in his head, over and over. Of course, he was aware what it meant, but it wasn’t easy if moving forward also meant trying to be Spider-Man again. He felt so detached from Spider-Man lately, like he’s has become a whole other person.

Peter needed to solve this, fast, because the world at its current state desperately needed a familiar face again.

Iron Man was gone but Spider-Man was still here.

Peter was ready to show the world again.

Although it turned out it wasn’t as easy as the boy had thought. It was slow progress and Peter was impatient throughout it all.

The first time he tried to wear the suit again he ended up with an anxiety attack. It was bad, plainly worded.

His original plan was actually pretty simple, just open his closet for the first time after throwing his suit into it and maybe, if he felt alright, even touch the suit. Get a feel for it again without actually wearing it. Solid plan, if you asked Peter.

Yet, it all went wrong.

It was after school and May wasn’t gonna be home for another two hours, perfect for the first try. But even before the time arrived, still at school, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about it, what could happen, how it’d feel again and he was already afraid of possible flashbacks. In hindsight not the best state to be in, but Peter was stubborn. The world after all was waiting on him and he just needed to do this as fast as he could. 

He was attempting to move forward.

Like that, with a knot in his stomach, he went into his room and stood in front of his closet right after school. He even cancelled his plans with Ned for this moment and now he just had to get it right.

Maybe it was the overall unease and tension that already plagued his mind or the constant pressure he inflicted on himself, but as he reached out his hand to open the closet everything went wrong.

His hand, in fact, was quivering, trembling, affecting his whole body, like he had drunken six cups of coffee at once. The knot in his stomach spiked pain up his torso, making him want to throw up. Peter must have looked like a wreck standing anxiously in front of his closet, reaching for it like a mad man. And damn it, it was just a closet.

Despite everything his heart was pounding crazily and he felt lightheaded as he touched the handle. Even though his hand was overly sweaty, also induced by his anxiety, he somehow physically and mentally managed to threw open the door. A loud bang sounded off and Peter’s ears were ringing.

There it was. The suit.

Peter stood frozen, heart racing, body shaking and just gazed at it with wide eyes. 

Before he knew it he was crouching on the floor, hugging his knees and shoving his face downwards. It was like he was back, back on the battlefield. He could feel it, the heat, the pain throbbing in his body and the exhaustion pulling at his nerves. God, it was so loud. Screams echoed in his ears, screams of people dying all around him. It was torture.

His hands pulled at his hair out of desperation while he curled up into a ball. Tears were freely flowing down his reddened cheeks.

Two hours later his aunt found him like this in front of his opened closet. Curled up, clutching his body and weeping quietly.

‘'Peter!’’, May cried out scared out of her mind. He wasn’t able to respond.  

It took her twenty minutes to get him into bed, where she stayed and stroked through his hair until he eventually fell asleep, body totally exhausted. She was worried, her nephew improved so much in his everyday life but Spider-Man was still a rough part. May desperately wished she could help, but she already send him to a doctor and he was taking meds, it wasn’t enough though.

The next morning Peter came out of his room, hair messy and bags under his eyes, May greeted him with a sad smile in the kitchen. They talked the whole morning, thankfully it was a Saturday, and Peter explained how he was trying to become Spider-Man again, how he was trying to move forward. Both of them hugged for a long time afterwards and aunt May pleaded him to take it slow, to not rush anything.

The boy reassured him naturally, but in his head he just knew he had to try again, every time, he had to get this right no matter what. 

The progress after the whole disaster was slow, like expected. And even though Peter was impatient, he concentrated, took his meds and always got back up again.

Precisely one and half weeks later he was wearing the suit, loosely and without the mask, but he was wearing it. He could feel the stretchy and comfortable material on his skin and honestly it was bad, but somehow he beared the trembling, heart pounding and painful feeling and could somewhat even admit he missed the feeling. 

It was too long.

The next time he combined the suit, now tightened, with his web shooters and climbed up the walls to swing across the room. His aim was still quite off due to his trembling limbs, but it was such a big step, he was proud of himself. And maybe even a faint smile graced his lips the whole time.

Nevertheless, aside of all his progress, the mask still was the hardest part and it took him longer than anything to actually wear it again. His first try was a disaster, not quite as when aunt May caught him, but still pretty bad.

Tears soaked the mask in salt water when he heard Karen’s voice for the first time in weeks. The knot in his stomach never loosened up, but he was able to have a short conversation with her. Thankfully she could sense his anxiety and kept the topics light, not mentioning anything triggering. 

His first patrol went off surprisingly well. Though he only went out for twenty minutes and stayed close to the apartment, Peter still felt accomplished.

The second time was already much easier.

The wind around him as he swung from building to building and the feeling of freedom relaxed his tense muscles slightly. Citizens even cheered him on and waved at the local hero, clearly welcoming him back.

For a moment it felt like old times.

Yet, the moment he came face to face with a painting at the side of house his heart stopped for a second as he came to a stop across from it.

It wasn’t just any painting, it was a memorial.

The red and gold paint that formed the Iron Man suit gleamed in the rather grey looking area. It stood out painfully and Peter felt like crying all over again.

He squatted down and took off his mask carefully, thankfully it was already dark outside, only a few street lights casting light on the building Peter was currently on top of.  

His sad eyes scanned the wall. He breathed out and clenched his fists for a second, but to his own surprise he didn’t feel anger or grief as he looked on, the picture of his mentor above him.

Peter smiled.

-

‘'And this, kid, is why you shouldn’t mix coffee with an energy drink!’’, Tony easily explained, yet slightly amused, a grin etched on his face. ‘'Believe me, I didn’t go to college for nothing.’’.

Peter gasped. ‘'Wait! So you tried it out years ago?!’’.

‘'Geeze, years ago, one way to make me feel old.’’, Tony complained throwing his hands into the air playfully.

‘'But you are old’’, the teen cockily retorted and grinned at the offended look on his mentor’s face.

Tony shook his head lightly at the kids remark. Such a young kid but so much sass already, he thought admirable. Well he’s learning from the best. Placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder he smiled at him in affection.

Peter beamed up at his mentor, always appreciating and welcoming positive encouragement.

‘'If I see you near the coffee machine with an energy drink I’ll ban you from the kitchen all together and maybe even reinstall the baby monitor protocol.’’

‘'Oh come on Mr. Stark! My curiosity seeks answers!’’.

‘'Sure, kid, sure.’’, Tony patted his head smiling.    

-

The boys eyes welled up at the profound memory of one of the days they worked together in Mr. Stark’s lab. 

He missed this. He missed him.

The teen sniffed as he looked up at the hero. He hoped he was able to make him proud in the end. Mr.Stark taught him so much, he was always there for him and truly cared about the boy, the boy everyone else was doubting from the beginning.

But not Mr. Stark, not Tony. He saw his potential and believed in Peter when no one really did, not even himself.

Peter’s watery smile looked up at the sky in melancholy. He was really gone, not coming back ever again. The teen grasped his mask tightly as he realized one tiny thing for the first time.

He didn’t just loose a mentor, a person he looked up to, he didn’t just lose a friend. He lost so much more.

A father figure. A dad. 

The tears that followed the realization made their way down his face. How could Peter not have noticed sooner? The signs were all there. 

It may have been too late to thank Tony for everything he has done, Peter crestfallen noted. But he was sure, he would honor everything he had learned from him. He wouldn’t forget him, never.

How could someone forget Tony Stark?

The smile on his red, tear soaked face was genuine, it truly was.

Peter still hadn’t fully accepted what happened, it takes more time than this, but he was moving. Forward. The only way he can, the way Tony would have wanted him to.

He still had a long way to go, but he’d never be alone. Tony was still with him. Just like his Dad, just like uncle Ben. As long as Peter won’t forget them they’d be there by his side. 

Spider-Man was back and he had a lot to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still sad :)
> 
> Thanks for reading !


End file.
